


not never

by weekend_conspiracy_theorist



Series: Star Trek Prompts [8]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 02:08:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12355254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weekend_conspiracy_theorist/pseuds/weekend_conspiracy_theorist
Summary: Jim and Bones and babysitting the kids of one of Bones's old friends.





	not never

Jacob squeals with delight as Jim sweeps him up onto one shoulder, clamping his forearm over skinny knees and puffing out his chest. “Orders, Captain?” he asks, as smartly as he used to when he was a cadet, and snaps off a slightly awkward left-handed salute. Jake lets out a peal of laughter, stubby legs kicking with delight.

Bones, knelt down next to his sister Talli, looks up at them with a sparkle of mischief in his blue eyes. “Kid’s got the best seat in the house,” he teases. His smile is crooked in a way that makes Jim’s heart do something funny in his chest.

He smiles back helplessly, ignoring the little hands tugging his hair into a variety of spikes, and points out, “I believe that honor belongs to Mr. Spock’s shoulders; he is, after all, the tallest member of the command team.”

Bones chuckles–if such a devious sound can be considered a chuckle. (He cackles, perhaps would be more accurate.) He heaves himself upright, thoughtlessly reaching for Talli’s small hand, and bounces on the balls of his feet. “That’d sure be a sight, eh, Jim? Think we could convince him to beam down for the afternoon?”

Jim huffs. “Not on your life.”

“Well–” Bones breaks off as Talli tugs at his arm, one brown little thumb tucked into her mouth and her cat-like gold eyes wide. He leans down once more, a soft, kind smile replacing his smirk. “Yeah, honey?”

Talli takes her thumb out of her mouth just long to tell him, “Gonna start soon.”

“Sure is, ain’t it.” Bones brushes a bit of dirt off of her cheek and then straightens. “Ready for this, Jimmy?”

Jim smirks, opening his mouth, and Bones narrows his eyes and stabs a finger at his chest. “Whatever it was that just popped into your head, don’t you say it.”

“Bones, I’m hurt.”

“Shut up, Jim.”

Talli gasps. “Dr. Len! That wasn’t very nice!”

There’s outrage thick in her reedy little voice, and Jim snickers. “Yeah, Bones; that wasn’t very nice.”

“Yeah, Bones,” Jake echoes, kicking his legs again–Jim firmly clamps down on his laughter as Bones splutters indignantly. (From the dirty look he receives, he’s not entirely successful.)

He gamefully ignores Bones’s side-eye and holds out his free hand to Talli; after a moment’s deliberation, she very carefully wipes her thumb off on her purple t-shirt and then accepts it.

He jiggles his shoulder a bit just to hear Jake laugh, then asks faux-seriously, “Shall we engage, Captain?”

“Warp nine!” Jake shrieks, and tugs fiercely at Jim’s hair.

The banner over the field they’re headed for declares “Three-Legged Race” in the thick, dyslexia friendly letters that the universal translator favors, and as they draw closer, the sounds of the day’s festivities grow louder. People mill about in a riot of color, smiling and laughing and talking under the bright light of a summer sun; a light breeze catches gently at their hair and music drifts through the background of the scene.

It’s not Earth; the chords are alien, sharp and bright, though not unpleasant. The grass is a shade too blue, the light too orange, and the people too short and too bronze, almost glittering in the sun–but by God, none of that matters. It’s so familiar it almost aches.

Bones had intended to spend his shore leave catching up alone with an old friend from med school, but Lorraine- an Alabama blonde with a Southern drawl that was even thicker than Bones’s, curling around her words without taking away a lick of the effect of her acerbic wit- had been called in to work abruptly. Jim, selfishly, can’t bring himself to regret the interruption; he’d leapt at the chance to beam down when Bones asked for back up watching the kids.

They’ve almost reached the starting line, where the townspeople are starting to gather, and Talli squeezes the both of their hands and gazes up at them. “You promised you would win,” she informs them solemnly. “I won’t forgive you if you don’t.”

Jim raises his eyebrows at Bones, biting back laughter for the second time that day. “You hear that? She won’t forgive us, Bones.”

“Guess we’ll just have to win then, won’t we, Jim?” Bones grins over at him, meeting his gaze. The light of this alien sun catches on each and every smile line at the corners of his eyes, and Jim wants–

Jim wants.

He clears his throat, looking away, and carefully extracts his hand from Talli’s so he can lift her brother down from his shoulder. “You two head on down to the finish line,” he urges, nudging Talli’s hand towards Jake’s.

“We’ll be watching, so don’t run off,” Bones adds, sternly, and Talli- after trading which hand she’s holding onto her brother with- sticks her thumb back into her mouth and nods her agreement.

“Cute kids,” Jim murmurs, hands finding his hips as Talli tugs a toddling Jake along behind her.

“Lorraine and her husband did good,” Bones agrees, folding his arms over his chest and nudging his elbow against Jim’s. “Thanks for coming down to help,” he adds softly. “You’re good with them.”

“Just following your lead.” Jim smiles, a little crooked, and then–he reaches out. He doesn’t know what he intends to do, isn’t sure what the look on his face must say, but whatever it is makes Bones’s breath catch in his throat.

“Jim,” he whispers, somewhere between a plea and a warning. “Not here, not now.”

Jim lets his hand fall, licking his lips as he nods and turns away. “Right.”

“Jim…”

“It’s fine, Bones; we have a promise to keep. The race is about to–”

“Jim, look at me.” Bones shakes his elbow, dragging him around. “I said _not now_ , not _never_.” His grip is insistent, and his eyes searching, and Jim tries to let go of the defensive posture he’d adopted so readily. Bones breathes out softly, squeezing Jim’s elbow one last time, and releases him. “When we’re back on the ship and there aren’t little eyes and ears around, we’ll have this…” his lips quirk. “Conversation.”

The look in Bones’s eye calls forth an answering thrum of heat low in Jim’s stomach. “Why, Dr. McCoy,” he teases. “You scoundrel, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“I said ‘conversation’, Captain,” Bones says, breezily, and there’s a bounce in his step as he sets off towards the table where contestants are signing up for the race. “Anything more you choose to read into that is just you projecting.”

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted [here](https://enterprisetrampstamp.tumblr.com/post/166347552422/15-mckirk-3-legged-sack-race)


End file.
